Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (24 page)

I raised my brow. "And you're just telling us now?"

He shifted, uncomfortable. "Well, Ray's not really keen on visitors."

Julian leaned back in his chair. "Who is he?"

"A nix tortured by Aquidae. Locked in a basement until he managed to crawl his way out and survive." His voice grew quiet. "It did things to his mind."

Cam sat up. "Is he reliable?"

Ian nodded slowly. "His anxiety skews some of his words. But if you pay attention to what he says, you can usually sift through it."

Alex joined Cam on the sofa. "He lives near here?"

"Yeah." Ian settled across from me at the table. "Ray's paranoia makes it impossible for him to live anywhere else. He likes isolation. When we got here, I did a little checking. He's about an hour and a half away."

"If he's that isolated, how does he get all his info?" Cam asked.

"He belongs to a bunch of underground networks and electronically monitors things. I'm sure he already knows about New York."

Julian frowned. "You mean he has illegal knowledge about Haverleau security."

Ian swallowed."Yeah. Kind of why I didn't want to say anything."

I rubbed my eyes. "You think we can trust him?"

"Ray's a bit off, but he's on our side. Believe me."

We had nothing to lose. Even a reclusive, paranoid nix hiding in the northern wilderness was better than nothing.

Julian seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"Let's set it up."

***

Endless ocean surrounded me in a blanket of rolling swells.

I floated.

Light and free. Uncaring of the past, present, or future.

A selkie appeared, powerful form cutting through the nebulous water.

It beckoned and I followed.

We slid through the inky darkness. The further we progressed, the heavier the sea grew.

No longer was I weightless.

Undertow pulled, pushing down my clothes and limbs, fighting my need to see the sky.

Several times the selkie stopped. Waited for me to catch up.

Finally we headed up, up, up toward the light shimmering through a glassy prism.

And when I broke the surface, he stood on the shore, tall figure achingly familiar.

I staggered, hands reaching for his.

We stood, palm-to-palm, immersed in moonlight. I couldn't tell if the salty wetness on my cheeks were from my eyes or the ocean.

Maybe there was no difference.

"You have to stop it."

"I know," I whispered. "It's all I know."

"What is it worth?"
 

He repeated this question to the rhythm of the tides gently pushing against my calves.

I remained silent because I had no answer.

MORNING LIGHT FLICKED GRADATIONS OF pale purple and gold across stone pathways. Bursting with tree groves, verdant shrubs, and luscious blooms, the south courtyard rivaled Haverleau's Royal Gardens in beauty and size.

"This is nice," Renee murmured.

Heightened preternatural senses meant selkies preferred soothing environments. Eight immaculately maintained palace gardens each provided a calm oasis by bringing the surroundings indoors.

I made my way to the breakfast buffet and inhaled deeply. "I know."

Small intricately woven baskets were stacked on a table laden with food.

Helene walked right past it and zoomed her camera in on a rose bush. "They only stuck us out here because the delegates are using the main dining hall."

"I prefer it." Renee picked up a peach. "Every meal is like a picnic."

I filled my basket with bread rolls, cheese, and a few colorful, unidentifiable fruit before joining the others near a bed of cheerful wildflowers.

"You look perky," Chloe remarked.

"Went for a morning run."

The setting was too gorgeous to resist. As rays of dawn reached toward the sea, I'd raced through the northern woods, darting between dense copse of pines and spruce and bounding over gently rolling underbrush.

Selkies tracked me everywhere. Some were on security watch. A few were simply curious at seeing an ondine. Others whipped past me on their own runs, leaving behind nothing but the faint impression of movement.

Despite their presence, a stillness had hung in the air, an untouched quality I also sensed at the cove in Haverleau.

Sheltered by nature's embrace, I found a momentary freedom and for those precious minutes nothing else existed but the steady rhythm of my feet pounding in sync with the beating of my heart.

"I still think you should say something to Prince Belicoux." Worry tightened Aubrey's expression.

Ian placed his hands behind him and tipped his face up to the sun.

"He's got his hands full, Aub," he said softly. "It'll be all right."

"What happened?"

I took a deep bite of something that looked like a cross between an apple and a pear. Complex flavors exploded in my mouth.

No Academy cafeteria food here.

"Selkie gave Ian a hard time yesterday," Aubrey muttered. "Came into the library and made him leave until he could prove who he was."

Alex frowned. "After we left?"

Once we'd finished our impromptu meeting about Ian's informant, the rest of us returned to our rooms. Ian remained behind to work on Tristan's project.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "It was my own fault for not keeping the papers on me."

"He accompanied you to your room like you were a prisoner!" Aubrey said hotly. "That's ridiculous. You're a special guest of the prince."

Renee's eyes narrowed. "This selkie anyone I know?"

"I don't think so." Ian sliced open a dark green fruit similar to a pineapple. The insides were a vivid pink dotted with black seeds. "Tall. Lean. Diamond
pedaillon
so still in training. Blonde hair."

My stomach turned. "Dark eyes? With bits of grey in them?"

He nodded.

"That would be Dax Belicoux."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Relative?"

"Brother."

Tristan really was the black sheep of his family. Talking to him about his father and brother wasn't going to do anything except add to his frustration.

He had enough to deal with right now without bringing in family drama.

I'd handled much more difficult situations before. I could handle a kid and an obnoxious father.

"Don't worry," I reassured Aubrey. "I'll deal with it."

Amber, Dylan, and a few other Redavi sat under the leafy shade of a tree near the back of the courtyard. Dylan shot an ugly look our way, but Amber put a quieting hand on his arm.

Our eyes met and I gave a small nod.

Amber wanted to participate in the training program, but didn't want her friends to know about it yet. It was a decision I had to respect.

She'd surprised me by training hard and keeping her promises.

Marcella had been right to believe in her.

Blaise and Ethan joined us and the conversation quickly shifted to other topics.

After breakfast, we went our separate ways. Chloe was dividing her time between diplomatic work and preparations for the surprise event a few days from now. Aubrey and Ian were continuing their work in the library.

The elites headed for the entrance hall to meet Garreth, Adrian, Ewan, and a few other instructors.

Helene had petitioned Garreth for the right to follow me to training classes. He'd shot her down before she completed her second sentence. Instead, she was unhappily attending the conference with Renee.

That wasn't going to hold her long. Last night, a possible solution came to me and I'd already sent a message to Jeeves.

By the time I went for my morning run, the decorations from last night's reception had been cleared away. The selkies led us down the empty slope toward the woods.

The others walked ahead and I kept pace with Ewan.

"Who were those guys who met us at the pier yesterday?"

"Friends. We were in the same gardinel training class."

"They live here?"

He nodded. "About four years ago, Prince Belicoux made one of his rare returns to the palace. He saw us working in class and spoke to me afterwards. Said to come to Haverleau once I was inducted."

His voice rang with pride.

"Why didn't he come home more often?"

"I don't know." He hesitated. "He's a private person."

"But you have your guesses," I prodded.

"He disagrees with his father a lot."

Tell me something I don't know.

I recalled what Tristan told me at his birthday party. "They have differing ideas about the future."

"That's part of it. Eric was a gardinel but he made it clear he'd adopt his royal duties the moment his father asked him to. Prince Belicoux was different."

He paused as if unsure whether to continue.

I encouraged him. "He didn't want the throne."

Ewan nodded slowly. "Once Eric was gone, Prince Belicoux fought with the King, even walked out and skipped the heir ceremony. He didn't return until his mother grew ill. He accepted his inheritance only after she passed."

During that time away from his kingdom, Tristan had been in a frenzy of wild grief, killing Aquidae and honing his reputation as Warrior Prince.

"It was always clear Prince Belicoux preferred being gardinel over prince," Ewan continued. "His father punished him for it, constantly pressured him to focus on royal duties. I think it's part of the reason Prince Belicoux stayed away as long as he did."

 
Until last summer when he finally retired from being a gardinel and devoted himself completely to the throne.

Anger flared.

I knew what it was like when a parent crushed your desires and sculpted you into something else.

I'd come to accept what Naida Irisavie had done. As an ondine on her own, she'd felt enormous pressure in preparing me to be the
sondaleur
.

But there was no excuse for King Belicoux.

Last night, I'd caught a glimpse of who Tristan might've been if he hadn't become the Warrior Prince.

And the reason for it.

"Hey." I kept my voice casual. "I met someone yesterday. Sian Ardaineu."

He glanced at me. "I just had breakfast with her."

"Does she work at the palace?"

"On the Advisory Council."

Someone who had security clearance was behind the murders. Twelve selkie females sat on the Advisory Council. As the group closest to the throne, their members had access to all gardinel information.

His eyes glazed over. "Her mother, Yahaira, makes the best meatloaf. I should stop by after class and see if she has leftovers."

"We just had breakfast!"

"You don't understand," he said emphatically. "Yahaira's food is worth it. Why are you asking about Sian anyway?"

I shrugged. "Thought she was connected to the royal family or something."

"Well, she is. Sort of. Ancelin was betrothed to Yahaira. But they both ended up falling in love with someone else so they mated separately. The betrothal then passed down to their kids. Sian was betrothed to Eric. When he passed, she was engaged to Prince Belicoux."

It was as if he stabbed me.

The familiarity, the mutual respect and easy flow.

She was going to be his queen.

"Are they mating soon?" My voice sounded flat.

He didn't notice. "I think a few people still hope they will. Sian's well-liked."

I had the impression of cracks opening in my chest.

"But officially they broke their betrothal a few years ago. She grew up with Prince Belicoux and his brothers so she probably knows him better than anyone."

Better than me.

I was right. She had history with Tristan.

Ewan's brow furrowed. "You okay? You look a little pale."

"Yeah."

That ache was spreading again. The one deep beneath my chest, so far down I couldn't get to it and lock it away.

It was the oddest sensation, as if I were losing something I longed for. How could I lose it when I never had it in the first place?

Woods gradually thinned until nothing but flat land remained.

Straight ahead, an enormous pavilion the size of a three story house, rose before us. Tall wood columns supported the pyramid roof and grey boulders lifted glistening hardwood floors a few inches above ground.

With only one wall on the north end, the pavilion had an open architecture intimately connecting the space with its natural surroundings. A group of selkies stood on the central elevated platform.

Garreth pointed to a cluster of neighboring buildings in the northwest.

"Several hundred selkie students receive their education at our school. And this," he turned to the open structure, "is the Áimoni. The place of harmony."

We removed our shoes and stepped inside. Floors shone, buffed to perfection. Narrow wood beams, only a few centimeters wide, dangled from the roof, crisscrossing the space beneath the vaulted ceiling.

Corded rope snaked through ceiling hooks, wrapped around the ends of each piece of wood, and extended out though the north wall.

I immediately spotted Dax's blonde hair among the three groups of selkies sparring on the elevated floor.

We settled on the benches lining the platform and watched the show.

A wiry selkie with short, light brown hair streaked across the floor. He blurred, fist rocketing forward. The loud crack resounded against the wood floors.

Opponent dropped, arching his back as he fell and using the momentum to flip over. He landed light on his feet, arm lashing forward in a brutal blow that hammered the other selkie in the kidney.

"Cam," I murmured. "Close your mouth."

He snapped it shut. "Did you see what he just did?"

Another dazzling sequence of punches. A flying kick.

No grunts of pain, no labored breathing or clumsy footwork. Only sharp, rhythmic whacks as unleashed feet and fists made precise contact.

"That was definitely a rib," Alex said.

"There goes another one," Ethan murmured.

A red-haired selkie agilely vaulted up to the wooden beam on the right, then sprang to the higher beam on the left.